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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824701">Captured</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arin_K/pseuds/Arin_K'>Arin_K</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty talk kinda, M/M, Oxygen mask, PWP, Somnophilia kink idk, Wounded, short af</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 12:08:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arin_K/pseuds/Arin_K</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this at 4am because a horny idea won’t let me sleep. Sorry.</p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leon S. Kennedy/Other(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Captured</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this at 4am because a horny idea won’t let me sleep. Sorry.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pain is the last thing he remembers. Mutated creature, a pile of flesh and gore and razor-sharp bones digging its claws into his suddenly so fragile body, ripping him apart and throwing him away like a broken toy, and the familiar sensation of blood seeping out - too hot on the outside, chilling cold on the inside. He may have been dying. Alone, deep into the enemy’s den. Not the first time. Probably not the last. Someone dragged him... somewhere, Leon doesn’t remember much except for mere air brushing his skin feeling as it shifted his broken bones. Pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is almost not surprised he wakes to pain as well, head heavy and hurting so much he can barely think, and it smells like sterility and oxygen, pure oxygen, and there is something more, something wrong, cold air is hitting his skin as someone is tugging the hospital gown up, touching the naked skin, shifting the bandages - so many bandages, why is he even still alive? The hands are snaking under the cloth now barely covering his chest, caressing him leisurely, touching his nipples, pinching the sensitive buds of flesh, and it is so wild Leon wants to kick and curse and </span>
  <em>
    <span>look the bastard in the face</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t move. Can’t even open his eyes. Sedated? Drugged? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hands are crawling down, tracing his ribs, his broken, bandaged ribs, pushing down, hard. Chuckling when his breath hitches from pain, body shivering weakly. Leon wants to scream, the scream threatening to rip his lungs from the inside, aching, burning. He can’t even open his eyes. He had to make himself breathe, that simple act requiring so much effort he’s got no strength left for anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand slips between his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow this simple act is so terrifying Leon can’t make himself breathe anymore. Shellshocked. Frozen in horror. A tip of a finger caresses his hole, pressing on the rim slightly, pushing inside, Leon’s body too relaxed to stop the intrusion, and it’s just too much, with the pain cracking his head and the pain scorching his insides and the pain gnawing at his bones he can’t take anymore. Can’t take fingers stretching him out roughly, almost hurriedly, moving too fast and too deep and too dry. Leon screams, as if using the last drops of strength left on it. His broken body turns the scream in a soft quiet moan, earning a low laugh from a man on top of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enjoying it, you slut?” - hot whisper is burning his ear, making hair on his neck stand up in raw, mindless horror. “Had no idea why they didn’t leave you for dead, pretty boy, but now when I see your face...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon wants, needs to fight, to throw him off and break his ribs so that he won’t touch people without consent ever again and break his jaw so that he never says...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man lifts his leg by an ankle, bending it slightly and putting it on his shoulder. Licks the inner thigh and bites next to the knee slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So fucking pretty, I bet those long legs rode a lot of shoulders. Did they even bother to ask your permission?” - he laughs again, smugly. “Who cares. I will give you a warm welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Leon could have, he would have retched. Nausea feels so palpable. Has nothing to do with the pretty much possible concussion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man makes himself comfortable between his legs, humming and clicking his tongue. Then something is pushing into him, forcing him open, hurting even though he’s almost unconscious, and Leon starts regretting he didn’t die once and for all. It burns, making his body tremble, his soft whimpers being muffled with the oxygen mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s how I love ‘em, soft and pliant, taking me so well...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leon can do nothing, just breathe and take it, and shift his arms slightly, wishing - needing to push him away, only to find out his wrists are tied to the bed frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man pushes inside until flesh touches flesh, and the burning feeling of testicles slapping his ass is nothing compared to the scorching feeling of his insides being stretched until they’re starting to tear, and he is bleeding again, and he is so weak and helpless he wants to cry, for the first time in monster-fighting eternity. The man licks away a single tear rolling down his cheek, leaving a cold trace behind. Fingers caress his face above the oxygen mask lovingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t cry, babe. Would have hurt more... if they’d have fucked you... all at once... without all the meds. You’ll get... a chance to compare. Probably’ll... thank me. God, so fucking tight...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wet slapping is ringing in his ears, thrusts shifting his body back and forth, knocking out the air he managed to breathe through the pain he’s drowning in. With some inhuman strength Leon manages to open his eyes, only to see the blurry white, the blinding light and a dark silhouette. More hot hot tears are escaping his eyes and Leon feels how his too dry </span>
  <em>
    <span>from all the strained breathing</span>
  </em>
  <span> lips crack as he tries to whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, please”. It hurts too much to talk, to breathe, to even stay conscious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man puts a palm of a hand on his neck, pressing cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-no boy. I love ‘em sleeping like angels. You can moan, you can cry, but no talking. Now hush and back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingers are pressing into some certain points on his neck, and before his brain shuts down obediently, Leon, ripped open and empty, dissected and gutted and </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> is sure that if death of humiliation was possible, he would have been already dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so pretty when you’re in pain. They will enjoy experimenting on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a merciful end it would have been.</span>
</p><p> </p>
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